


Go Back to the Rainforest Riley Finn, They've Salted This Earth and Nothing Grows Here

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-08
Updated: 2003-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-04 03:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the "perfect" marriage of Riley and Sam Finn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Back to the Rainforest Riley Finn, They've Salted This Earth and Nothing Grows Here

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after "As You Were." Sex and dark themes.
> 
> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works. 

"Nepal?"

"It was the first thing I could think of." Sam pulls the elastic free from her hair and shakes her head. She tilts her neck forward and runs her fingers over her scalp, then flips her head back, hair flying like vintage Jaclyn Smith. Sam's like that, she attracts attention like blood attracts vampires.

Riley leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. The leather creaks when Sam sits beside him and drops the headset in his lap. It thunks against his crotch and he winces.

"Aw, poor Finn. Did I hurt you?" Her fingers tickle where they creep across his thigh and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, turning so only his hip is angled toward her. Sam traces a lazy path across his body as he moves, thigh to hip to waist, then dipping under the waistband of his army issue pants and stroking his hipbone. "Want me to make it all better?"

He keeps his eyes closed and his face turned away from her. He's the perfect soldier, he doesn't move, doesn't speak, and tries to control his heartbeat. Sam's other hand is in his hair, shorter now than when he left Sunnydale, and she's rubbing the pads of her fingers across his scar.

Her tongue darts out and she licks his ear once quickly, then once again slower, taking the time to run it around the edge before trailing it down his neck. When she reaches his collar she pushes it roughly aside and bites down on his racing pulse. Riley's hand clenches on the headphones and something cracks under his fingers.

"Cheap government issue," she says, then pries the headset from his hand and drops it to the floor. It rolls to the door then comes to rest under the seat. The pilot and co-pilot never once turn around. They know their orders and absolutely do not see their commanding officer in this situation.

Sam runs her hand over his head then down the side of his face. She grips his cheek, fingers biting in, flesh turning white, and forcibly turns his head until he's facing her then presses her mouth to his hard enough so he can feel his teeth bruising the back of his lip. She hasn't drawn blood yet, but someday he won't be surprised if she does.

She pulls back, hands gripping his face, and looks at him. His eyes are closed and his lips are parted. She leans in and licks, little kitten strokes, around the edge of his mouth, before pressing her tongue inside and stroking it over his square, white, Iowa teeth.

The army copter wasn't built for officers to have sex in the backseat and metal pieces are biting into Riley in all sorts of ways. His hands hover in the air behind Sam's back, clenching open and closed, before he drops them to his own knees.

The co-pilot raises his eyebrows in shock when he hears the sound of a zipper opening, but the pilot, used to Mr. and Mrs. Agent Finn shakes his head. Before Sam reaches her hand inside Riley's pants she turns and winks at them.

Riley doesn't make a sound as his wife strokes her hand up and down his cock. She clenches her fingers around the base and he twitches under her hand. Sam laughs and it's not a pretty sound. It never is.

Riley's hands stay on his knees, fingers perfectly still, except when she touches them while she's pushing his legs apart so she can crouch between them. She watches his face as she cups his balls in her hand and squeezes. Not even an eyelash flickers to suggest that he might be here with her.

She pulls her hand free and moves his black pants and underwear to the side, then lowers her mouth to him. Sam takes his cock deep in her throat and runs her tongue over his hardness. Lips carefully wrapped over teeth, she raises and lowers her head, feeling the zipper bite into her cheek every time she gets close to him. Riley doesn't make any noise at all until she scrapes her teeth over him, and then he groans, a guttural noise that sounds a little like pain and a little like pleasure.

She pulls back and tucks her hair behind her ears. He's looking at her, finally, and he's not smiling any more than she is.

"It's okay, Finn," she says, steel in her voice. "Just lie back and think of Buffy."

Riley tangles his hands in her hair and pushes her mouth back over his cock. One, two, three thrusts and he's coming.

When he finishes, he pushes her away from him until her back is pressed against the co-pilot's seat. "I want a divorce," he says, and zips up his pants.

"Oh, Riley," Sam says, wiping the back of her left hand across her damp lips before pulling her wedding band free and dropping it onto his stained pants. "We were never married at all."


End file.
